Chapter 3 The dragons den 3

Before he could respond a sharp knock echoed from the outer chamber followed by a male voice.

Noticing his distraction she pushed herself away from him with all her might. She immediately stumbled back through the water putting distance between them.

"Your Majesty! The council meeting begins in Ten minutes"

He released a frustrated growl that sounded more dragon than human.

"Luck seems to be on your side little mouse, but make no mistake, this is far from over."

He emerged from the pool with grace, completely unbothered about his nakedness or his evident arousal.

"There's a dressing chamber through that door." He said, wrapping a towel around his waist. "Get changed and wait in my chambers till I return."

"I need to return to my duties.."

"Your duty is to me now." His voice cut through her protest. "You are my personal attendant, you will wait in my chambers and you will not speak a word of today's occurrence to anyone, understood?"

It wasn't a question, it was a command.

"And Elara, don't even think about running, I can find you anywhere in this palace. Your scent...." He inhaled deeply, his pupils dilating "it's burned into my memory."

"Yes, Your Majesty." She whispered with defeat. But deep down, beneath her fear and confusion, a spark of defiance flickered to life. She silently plotted her escape.

Elara's gaze lingered on him as he disappeared through the doorway, her ears straining for any sound of his return.

The moment she was certain he was gone she quickly stripped out of her soaked dress, her fingers fumbling with the clinging fabric. She ventured into the dressing chamber, shocked at the sheer amount of fine silks and linen, she reached for one but hesitated, staring at it like it was poisoned.

No, absolutely not. Wearing his clothes, or worse, clothes meant for the women he bedded was definitely not a choice. It felt like crossing an invisible line.

She gathered her wet dress and walked back to the main chamber, draping it over the ornate chair nearest to the fireplace. The flames had died down, but hopefully there was still enough heat to dry it before he returned.

Her eyes darted to the door every few seconds, her heart jumping at every distant sound in the corridor.

How long does a council meeting even last? Thirty minutes? An hour?

She caught sight of her reflection in the polished surface of a decorative shield mounted on the wall. Wild silver hair and pale flushed skin standing in nothing but her undergarments in the Dragon king's private dwelling. I'm insane

She tried to retie her hair but the knot just wouldn't hold properly partly due to how badly her hands were trembling.

"Damn it." She hissed beneath her breath finally managing a messy bun.

Deciding she could no longer wait she grabbed her dress from the fireplace. It was now partially dry, still damp in some places but it would have to do.

She couldn't stay a second longer, not with his scent still clinging to her skin, not with the memory of his hands burning into her flesh.

She frantically pulled the dress over her head, her hands fumbling with the lace.

The dress clung uncomfortably to her undergarments, but she barely noticed.

The door. Just get to the door.

She walked to the door, her hands trembling as it closed around the knob hoping it wasn't locked. She half expected it to be locked and half expected dragon fire to consume her for her disobedience.

The handle smoothly opened.

He didn't lock it.

She stared in disbelief. The arrogant bastard hadn't even bothered to lock the door. He'd simply assumed that his command alone would keep her caged like a docile pet. He'd greatly underestimated her.

The hallway was exactly as she remembered, lined up with draconian guards, her heart hammered so violently she was certain they could hear it.

She composed herself, erasing all emotion from her face and stepped out, waiting for something, anything.

Invisible. Be absolutely invisible.

The nearest guard's dark eyes flicked towards her. Her breath caught but she refused to stop as she kept her gaze lowered and movements unhurried.

The guard's attention slipped away dismissing her as beneath notice.

They have no idea he ordered me to stay.

She passed the guards one by one keeping her breath study. She turned a corner, then another. The Opulent tapestries and polished marble gradually gave way to simpler stone.

A few more turns, down four flights of stairs and finally, finally, she heard the familiar sounds of the lower quarters. Clattering dishes, raised voices and the chaos of servants preparing for the midday meal.

She slipped into the communal washing area, her legs nearly giving out from relief.

She pressed her back against the stone wall and tried to calm her breathing.

"Elara? Is that you?"

Her eyes snapped open to find Serena staring at her.

"Good heavens, you look like you've seen death itself." she whispered, rushing to her.

"What in the world happened? Did he...Did the king...."

"Nothing happened Serena." She said quickly, her voice flat. "I cleaned his chambers, and I left, that's all."

Serena's freckled face creased with suspicion. "You're such a terrible liar and you know it." "Your dress is wet, your hair's a mess and you're shaking."

"I'm fine," she said, pushing past Serena towards the servants' dormitory. "I just need to change and get back to work,"

"Back to work? Elara you've been reassigned to the king's.."

"No." the word came out sharper than she intended. "I'm going back to the kitchens, to my old duties. I'll speak to Mistress Calloway, tell her I'm unsuitable. I'm not going back to those chambers.

Serena grabbed her arm, "You can't just refuse a royal assignment, that's not how it's done."

"Then I'll make myself so incompetent she'll have to reassign me."

Elara's eyes flashed with determination. "I'll burn his breakfast, shrink his clothes, break his things, I'll do whatever it takes."

"Are you insane? He'll have you executed."

"Better dead than..." Elara stopped herself.

"I just...I can't go back there Serena, I can't....I refuse to."

Serena stared at her stubborn friend for a long moment and sighed. "Fine, but you're playing a dangerous game. Dragons don't like being denied what they want. And from what I hear, that one always gets what he wants.

Elara remained silent as she grabbed a clean uniform from her trunk and began undressing.

Over the next few hours she immersed herself into the most menial tasks she could find. She scrubbed pots till her hands were raw and she hauled buckets of water.

She volunteered for jobs everyone else avoided. Anything at all to stay busy and anything that had nothing to do with dragons.

By late afternoon she was covered in grime, sweat and fish guts, exactly as she wanted. This way no one would look at her twice. She was finally invisible again and invisible meant safe in her world.

But as she worked she couldn't shake off the feeling of eyes on her back.

She recalled his last words once again as a shiver ran through her spine,

"I can find you anywhere in this palace, your scent is now etched into my memory."

She scrubbed harder in an attempt to completely erase the memory of his touch, the heat of his body and the confusing ache it awakened in her.

When the dinner bell rang, she sat at the farthest table, making herself appear even smaller.

For a few precious hours, Elara let herself believe she'd escaped him. She was oblivious to Mistress Calloway's narrowed gaze from across the hall.

She failed to see the draconian messenger who arrived at the entrance and little did she know that the dragon king's rage had set the very air ablaze.